


getting sore outside of mcsorley's

by whereinfinitylies



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 01:58:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2292689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whereinfinitylies/pseuds/whereinfinitylies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve gets arrested, and Bucky is fucking delighted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	getting sore outside of mcsorley's

Normally after Steve finished his shift at the grocer's he'd head straight home. Today, however, had been a particularly awful day; He was just getting over being sick, which would have made it bad enough, but on top of it no less then twelve customers had yelled at him for things he had no control over, a lady had come in with her screaming baby and stayed for an hour to argue with the manager - causing a particularly bad headache - and he'd had his shifts cut to appease said lady, who had left with a satisfied air around her. All things considered, Steve felt like getting  _drunk_. Not just tipsy I've had a few beers better head home drunk, but out of his mind wasted. He considered calling Bucky, but he knew his friend wouldn't approve. On any other day he'd whoop " _Fuck yeah_  Steve, grab your coat, we're getting smashed!" but after being sick, Steve had had to fight with him to even let him go to work, let alone grab a drink.

This was how he ended up at McSorley's, alone and drunk out of his mind on a Tuesday night. He'd had a good time; he knew the bartender, a friendly fellow in his mid fifties, and that kept the twits who usually hassled him at bay. He'd been drawing absentmindedly on an old napkin when he caught a look at the clock. The alcohol had made it feel as if he'd been there for no longer than a half hour, but instead it'd been three whole hours. Steve jumped out of his seat. Guilt filled him, as he knew Bucky'd probably be out of his mind with worry by now imagining all the possible scenarios of Steve laying somewhere, whether it be from the return of his fever or getting kicked down by some goon. No matter how many times Steve insisted he could take care of himself, Bucky just didn't seem to get it. He'd never admit it, but a part of Steve enjoyed it. It was nice to feel like someone cared, after all.

He'd just stepped out of the bar and turned to head home when he heard it, or rather, her. "No, Nick, get-get off of me! Nick!" Her voice sounded funny, as if she was about to fall asleep, but it was also full of fear. Steve suspected this Nick guy had given her a Micky Finn, and the guilt that previously wracked him was replaced with red hot anger. He turned around, heading for the alley beside the bar, and sure enough there was a dame pressed up against the wall by some twit in a three piece suit.

Steve didn't need the liquid courage in him to do the right thing, but it still helped. "Hey, buddy, get off of her!"

Slowly the guy turned around, looking at Steve. "Yeah, right,  _buddy._  How 'bout this instead? You got about ten seconds to stop stickin' your nose where it doesn't belong and get the hell outta here, or you're heading for a beating yourself."

He lifted his fists up. "I can take you."

The guy, Nick, snorted and stepped away from the bird and towards Steve. It gave her enough time to run outta there, and that's all the Steve had been hoping for, really. He knew he didn't stand a chance, but if the dame had gotten away, well, it was worth it. Nick strode towards him with purpose, saying "You're in for a world of hurt."

"Yeah, real original pal. I've never heard that one before." Steve quipped back before throwing a punch. The goon grabbed his fist and twisted his arm before it could even connect, and Steve hissed with pain. "That all you got?"

It turned out to be the wrong thing to say, because before he knew it he was on the ground with blood gushing out of his nose. It had happened too fast for him to even see it coming, but he could still feel his fist on his face as if it had never left. Before he could get up, he heard sirens alerting oncoming coppers. Steve had been in enough fights to know that no one gave a enough of a shit to call the cops, so he guessed the bird or the bartender had called 'em.

"Fuck." Nick cussed. Steve had gotten up by now, but he pushed him back down and kicked him twice in the stomach, and once on the head for good measure. "Remember that next time go you being all heroic, crumb."

Nick ran off, and now that he was alone Steve was alone he took a moment to assess his injuries. Nothing seemed to be broken, but his nose was gushing something fierce and his body was likely to be covered in bruises come morning.

The sirens drew closer until they were there, and Steve saw the coppers coming out of the car and head towards him.

Man, Bucky was going to  _kill_  him.

* * *

Steve had been stuck at the station for about an hour, so when he heard the door open he didn't even bother looking up. He'd figured out fast that people came in and out of this place every few minutes, so staring at the door waiting for Bucky was futile. A few moments later, he wished he would have looked so he might have been able to prepare himself for Bucky standing in front of him, a steely look on his face. Before he could say a word, though, the cop who'd nabbed him came out of nowhere and began talking. "You James Barnes?" A nod from Bucky. "Your brother here sure got himself in some trouble. He's lucky he ain't being fined."

If he didn't know Bucky so well, he would've missed the amused tilt to his face at being referred to as Steve's brother. They always said they were brothers the few times when Steve got real bad and was in the hospital, so the irony of the situation apparently wasn't lost on him. "Sure is, sir. Don't worry, ma'll beat some sense into the punk."

"Would be right to." The cop agreed. "Alright, get your asses outta here. I don't wanna see no more of this nonsense, alright?"

Steve nodded. Next time he'd be running too, injuries be damned. He waited for the cop to unlock the handcuffs that were currently holding him to the chair, and got up to follow Bucky out. They walked down the street together in silence, Steve very pointedly _not_ looking at Bucky. They stopped at the street corner, giving Steve a few seconds to sneak a peek at Bucky's face, and his reaction to Steve being arrested. He was, however, relieved to realize that Bucky didn't seem mad. In fact, it was quite the opposite - he seemed  _amused._ Looked like this was the best thing that had ever happened to him, even. Steve's shoulders sagged in relief as he realized Bucky must have been putting up a front to appease the officer. Bucky caught Steve's eye and they both looked at each other for a moment before Bucky's face cracked into a smile, then laughter. Despite the pain in his stomach and ribs, Steve couldn't help but join in. His laughter was half of relief that Bucky wasn't mad, whereas Bucky's seemed to be entirely out of pure delight of the situation. When they finally stopped laughing, Bucky shook his head and smirked. "Christ, Stevie. What would the nuns think? Good little Steve, getting  _arrested._ "

"In my defense, jerk, the guy had it coming. He had no right to go sticking his hand up that dame's skirt, not when she didn't want him to." Steve huffed, but there was no heat to his voice. They began walking again, and Steve stumbled a little and bumped into Bucky. He may have still been a little drunk.

Bucky wrapped his arm around Steve's shoulders, squeezing for a quick second before letting go. "Yeah I know, pal. Just maybe next time don't go getting the cops called on you, yeah?"

He hummed in agreement. "What took you so long getting there, anyway?"

"Well, see, I was out looking for this punk who was supposed to be home  _hours_  ago." Bucky jeered back.

Steve winced. "Yeah, sorry about that. Bad day at work?" It was a flimsy excuse, he knew, but it was the truth. He'd known it was a bad idea, but in retrospect, it was really,  _really_ bad idea. The guilt that had been replaced by anger, and then pain, soon filled him up again. "Sorry, Buck." He murmured quietly, staring down at his feet. _  
_

Bucky ruffled his hair and smirked. "Yeah, well, I guess I'll forgive you." They'd reached their apartment building. They walked up the stairs in silence. Bucky opened the door to their apparently, walking on ahead. He called over his shoulder. "I'm telling  _everyone_  about this, by the way."

"Bucky _, no."_ Steve squawked, chasing after him.

"No arguments, or you're cleaning yourself up." He replied, a smug grin on his face.

"Jerk."

"Punk."

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. McSorleys Old Ale House actually is a pub located in New York, and has been there since 1854.  
> 2\. Micky Finn is 1930s slang for a spiked drink.  
> 3\. A crumb was a loser by social standards.
> 
> This was unbeta'd and written in a rush, so if you notice any mistakes please let me know! Feedback would be enormously helpful.
> 
> Also, I'm so sorry about the title - I'm really bad at coming up with them, and then that came to mind and, well, I'm a sucker for a horrible pun.
> 
> Also, loosley based off this tumblr ask one of my friends got: http://steviebucks.tumblr.com/post/97197119653/no-but-like-did-steve-ever-get-arrested-for-fighting-in


End file.
